


Move On

by SpeckledCoffeeCups



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, M/M, Repressing, Thomas is a jerk, alex is sad, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 23:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeckledCoffeeCups/pseuds/SpeckledCoffeeCups
Summary: Alex didn't think he'd see Jefferson tonight.But now that he has he can't move on.





	Move On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flavus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flavus/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy! This was awesome and I loved writing it!

Alexander was ready to go.  He’d showered, cleaned his hair twice, gotten his suit dry cleaned, and John was helping him with his tie.  

“Listen, all I’m saying is you look amazing, and IF Jefferfuck shows up, I’ll kick his ass,” John says standing behind Alex hands on his shoulders.

“I just… can believe it.  He fucking cheated? I had a ring and everything and-”

“Alex.  Breathe.  He’s a dick.  Thinking about it won’t fix anything.” He says massaging his shoulders lightly.

“John, Alexander? Ready to go?” Burr asks adjusting his cufflinks with quick precision.

“Yeah. Alex?” John asks moving to Burr’s side and adjusting his tie and the company pin on his lapels. The whole reason for this dinner being promotions throughout the firm to positions of authority.  

One such positions being President of their branch in Jersey. It was between Jefferson and Burr, but once the infidelity came to light the obvious choice was Burr.

“I’m ready.” He says and smoothes his hair back again.  

“The uber is waiting. Come on babe,” John says interlacing his and Burr’s fingers, pulling a sharp pain from Alex’s chest. Seeing all these people in happy stable relationships only pulls at the wound in his heart that hasn’t, and probably won’t, heal.

“Alexander? You coming?” Burr calls back.

“Oh, yeah…” he follows, hands shoved deep into pockets. He prays Jefferson wasn't invited, he has no need to be there, except to show good character. And well…

Alex is silent in the uber, smashed between John and the door. It's not intentional, but he feels forgotten, even tho he is happy for Burr. But john was his friend first, and stupid jealousy that he should be long over, coils in his stomach.

“What do you think?” John asks and Alex jumps at the sudden contact.

“What?” He asks and John repeats himself.

“About the New Jersey firm,”

“I'm looking for Secretary positions. Would be interested in Treasury?” Burr asks surprising Alex.

“Me? Treasury?”

“You are skilled with finances. I'd love to let you take the position,” he says shifting to face him.

“Thank you… but I'll need to think about it,”

“Of course. Take all the time you need,” Burr says as the car rolls to the stop in front of their reservations.

“After you,” John says nudging Alex with his foot. He can't stop the smile that breaks across his face, or the eye roll that follows it.

“What is this some formal ball? It's a congratulatory dinner,” Alex quips back. Easy and natural like before his heart ached.

“Oh let it go Hamilton,” Burr teases as the three start to the building. There's a few cameras and News Crews fighting for their attention, but the event has been kept relatively quiet.

Upon entering the ballroom is dimly lit with blues and purples, the enormous chandelier hanging in the center of the room catching the light and fragmenting it across the room.

“Hamilton, table 3. Laurens table 2. Mr. Burr, you will be at the front table with Mr. Washington. Congratulations” The hostess states. Alexander frowns. He was suppose to be seated with John and the front.

“Thank you,” John pulls Alex away with a look. Once away John drops the grip he has on Alex's sleeve. “You can't make a scene-”

“I'm not. You are.” Alex bites back cutting off his friend.

“Hamilton you need to relax. Have a drink.” He suggests and glances to John. “John, love come on,” he says softly, leaving Alex standing by a table alone.

Thinking about it, he could use a drink. The open bar calls his name and he takes a Rum and Coke, stirring the straw as he watches the crowd.

This CEO says _Hello_ to that Vice President, without knowing that his wife is fucking their treasurer, and occasionally him and his wife. It’s all a cycle.

He sips his drink, the burn of the alcohol mixing with the fizz of the coke until it’s a tingly mess on his tongue. He watches Burr embrace Washington quickly, a rare smile on his face. John stands to the side a smile hidden behind a glass.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Alex’s glass sloshes on his suit and the ground.

“What the fuck man watch it!” he turns and is about to give this man a bashing. But when he comes nose to chest with an all too familiar magenta suit.

“You… you’re here?” Jefferson asks.  Alex scoffs and sets his glass down more forcefully than he logically needs to.

“Of course I’m here! Burr is my friend-”

“Just because you’re bitter about us-”

“Bitter doesn’t even cover it asshole-” He’s cut from his next comment by Washington.

“If everyone could take their seats,” Washington says throwing a glance towards Thomas and Alexander.  A simple message.  Shut up and sit down.

He settles down into the closest seat, unfortunately at the same table as Thomas.  He glares over the edge of his glass.

“Seriously.” he grumbles.

“You think I like this?” Thomas snaps back.  He bites back another comment as Washington starts speaking, some comments lost as Thomas and Alex engage in their own silent conversation, composed only of glares over glasses, and the slightest downturn of lips.  It drags along until dinner is served, a high quality meal of steak and potatoes that Alexander only picks at, his anxiety getting to him.

Who does thomas think he is, and who made this damned seating arrangement where they’re right next to each other! Especially considering…

“Will you quit glaring at me?” Thomas finally snaps putting his glass down harder than he needs.

“Will you finally admit you fucked up?” Alex is quick with his response.

“I have!”

“Obviously not.” Alex takes another, his third, glass of wine from the server sipping it down.  The table next to them throws concerned glances as they talk in hushed tones, probably starting some rumor about ex lovers having a public squabble over owing on child support or divorce attorneys… that they never needed because they never got that far.  

The engagement ring burns at the bottom of Alex’s underwear drawer.

“Just talk to me. What’s going on? I saw you come in with Burr and Laurens… don’t tell me-”

“Keep to your own business.” He bites back as music starts, pulling people to the dance floor, a pathetic square of empty space since over half of the people here are above 35.

“Why can’t you accept my apology?” Thomas demands.  “I’ve tried everything to show you I’m sorry and this is what I get?”

“You cheated on me Jefferson! And for what? I was out of town settling the estate of my absentee father?” he snaps back standing.  He’s ready to run, fight or flight taking over.

“I was lonely-”

“And that’s not an excuse!” he’s livid. “Why the hell can’t you just leave me alone?” Thomas stands as well and while eyes are drifitng to them, Alex couldn’t care less.

“Because I can’t forgive myself until you do.” He leans away flustered.  He’s so stupid why did he just admit that outloud.

“What do you mean-”

“We weren’t supposed to end.  You know it. I know it. And the world knows it. I can’t get over you, and now if you don’t mind.” He grabs his jacket and stands, leaving as quickly as he can.  Alex stands shocked before swallowing and wetting his lips.

He needs to leave.

And quickly.

He grabs his jacket, downs the rest of the wine, the drink burning his throat, before leaving the building and frantically hailing a cab.  

Fuck him, fuck what he’s doing to him, and fuck what he did.  He doesn’t cry despite the way the tears clog his throat and the anger clogs his head.

He refuses to cry until he’s home, and when he gets home to his empty apartment he runs past his fish tank, and throws his bedroom door open, digging through his drawers and finding the ring Thomas proposed with so long ago.  He remembers him doing it, can still smell the crisp autumn air and feel the chill creep under his skin as they stood in Central Park, Thomas on one knee and smiling like an idiot, his hands shaking.  

Alex said yes.  He said yes because he thought they were forever…

He clutches the ring tightly in his palm and sucks down a breath tears streaming freely down his cheeks.  

“We shouldn’t have broke up, you’re so fucking stupid! I hate you Jefferson!.” he breaks down in sobs, holding the ring to his chest, knees cracking as they hit the floor.  “I fucking hate you! I hate you!” He screeches… and then silence.  

He’s done.  He tucks the ring back into the sock drawer. Strips his clothes.  And goes to bed.

Because that’s what Alexander Hamilton does when he’s tipsy on wine, and can’t get over the fact Thomas cheated.  

He strips himself down, and sleeps it off.


End file.
